Gentle Mother
by medvezhka
Summary: Arya struggles with becoming a mother. Gendry tries to soothe her fears.


**A/N**: I kind of got to thinking what would happen if Arya and Gendry ever had a baby. I think Arya would struggle with it given everything she's been through and what she's done. I was kind of playing with the idea of her having Postpartum Depression. I also kind of explored Gendry feeling like a bit of an outsider at Winterfell. I tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible. I hope I did alright. I might add another chapter or two.

And thank you to everyone who reviewed my other fic. It gave me the confidence to post this one as well.

The title comes from the prayer 'Gentle Mother' that is featured in A Clash of Kings.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

**Background**: Arya is nineteen. Gendry is twenty-five. Sansa and Jon are married and ruling the North together. Bran never came back from beyond the Wall.

* * *

Gentle Mother , font of mercy

save our sons from war, we pray

stay the swords and stay the arrows,

let them know another day

Gentle mother, strength of women,

help our daughters through this fray,

soothe the wrath and tame the fury,

teach us all a kinder way.

_He had been pacing the forge for hours. His work was left forgotten and unfinished on the anvil but he gave it no mind. He was waiting for confirmation or a denial to the talk he had been hearing all morning. The small folk were all abuzz with the unconfirmed news. So far no one had come to tell him _anything_. He had only the whispers of other servants to go on. _

_Gendry told himself it wasn't true. It was a fortnight too early and besides someone would have sent for him. He all of people should have been one of the first to know. But then again he was but a lowborn blacksmith. Maybe they were intent on keeping him out of the sight and out of mind. If he wasn't standing there they could forget their lady was giving birth to a bastard's bastard. _

_The forge door suddenly swung open and His Grace, the King in the North stepped in. Gendry went to one knee and recited his courtesies. _

"_Rise Gendry. I suppose I shouldn't bother telling you such formalities between us are unnecessary. Again."_

_Gendry wasted no more time on regulations and asked what he needed to know. _

"_Is it true?" The annoyance he felt was barely hidden in his tone. The look on Jon's said he noticed it but His Grace kindly made no remark on it. _

"_Yes. It began in the middle of the night." It was nearly midday. Arya had been in labor for half a day and no one told him. "The Maester thinks it should be soon. Everything is normal so far. No complications." He recited everything like he was repeating someone else's words. _

"_May I go to her?" Gendry asked. He hated how desperate he sounded. _

_Jon did not respond immediately and Gendry knew the answer was no. They would not allow a baseborn bastard in the birthing room of one of their ladies. Even if he was the father. Jon spoke a long moment later slowly as if to choose his words carefully. _

"_I would allow it if it were up to me but…Arya does not want you there."_

Gendry brought the hammer down onto the still red-hot sword with enough to force shatter it had it not been fresh from the flame. He had been hammering in that fashion since the King had left him with an apologetic look on his face. Jon promised to send word if anything changed. Gendry already knew it wouldn't. He found himself bitterly wagering what his chances of even seeing the child were.

_You knew this wouldn't be easy_, a rational voice in his head pointed out.

That was true enough. Gendry had been expecting trouble and tension. How could there not be? He and Arya were not wed. She was a highborn lady, of one of Westeros most noble houses, and sister to the king and queen. And he was a blacksmith. He knew from the moment Arya revealed her identity to him all those years ago it would not be easy.

But he had not been expecting this. Certainly he knew many of the highborns would bristle at the thought of Gendry in the castle, in Arya's chamber as she gave birth. He figured it would be Her Grace, Sansa and all of her ladies as well. The Queen had been one of his fiercest opponent. When news Arya and Gendry's affair broke she was the first person calling for his removal from Winterfell. For Gendry had ruined one of their most valuable bargaining pieces. He would have been gone too, if not for Arya's threats to follow.

He never expected her of all people to be the one to keep him away.

_Had the Queen pressured Arya to forbid him? _Gendry wondered_. _That made even less sense though. Arya had always taken Sansa's orders as a challenge and intentionally did the opposite of what was commanded. The two sisters loved each other deeply but their relationship was not without conflict. They were two different to not clash often.

The sun was setting the next time the forge door opened. It was a servant, a young maid with yellow hair, he barely recognized her as one of Arya's. She told him his presence was requested in the castle by order of the King and Queen.

He nearly ran the poor girl down racing through the castle to the hallway outside Arya's bedchamber. They were all there. Jon and Sansa close together with their oldest daughter a girl of four between them. Rickon stood off to the side with his arms folded over his chest, quiet as always. The Maester and several maids bustled around them.

He kneeled before the King and Queen.

This time it was Sansa who commanded him to rise.

"What's wrong? Arya is she-" Gendry struggled to finish his question.

"She is…well," Her Grace answered carefully. She was always so restrained. One of her hands rested on her swollen belly. Sansa was with her third child already and just barely showing.

"The babe?"

"A healthy boy," the Maester informed him quickly. "He is big and strong already."

Gendry looked at the dozen people around him. The concern was palpable. He had never seen so much worry on the faces of the Starks.

"Then what's wrong?"

Jon and Sansa exchanged a glance. It was Rickon who spoke.

"Arya is refusing to feed him. She has yet to even hold him."

Gendry opened his mouth but no sound came out. He didn't know what to say with all of Arya's siblings staring at him.

"If she doesn't feed him soon. We will need to find a wet nurse," The Maester added warily. Gendry wondered where they would find one and had long they had to do so.

"I could feed him if she refuses to see sense. I am still nursing," Sansa offered. Her younger daughter was not yet a year.

Gendry stared at her. The thought of the Queen in the North putting his bastard son to her breast was a jarring notion. But it might be there only option. If something was wrong with Arya.

"Did she ask for me?" He asked finally shaking all other thoughts away.

Jon shook his head. "No. But we were hoping you could talk sense into her."

"She will listen to you," Sansa stated confidently.

Gendry was not so sure about that. Arya hadn't even wanted him here.

But he entered her room without another word. He tried to ignore the hopeful looks on her siblings faces. They expected him to fix this. And he wasn't sure he could. At that moment Gendry wasn't sure anyone could help Arya.

The room was dimly lit by dozens of candles and there was a firing roaring on the far side of the room. Gendry could not see the babe but he could hear crying from the crib that was set near the closed window. Only a few feet from Arya who was laying on the bed staring at the ceiling. She did not look down when he entered. Gendry said her name.

"It's a boy. That should please you," She said flatly in greeting. He stopped by the foot on her bed. She looked unbelievably tired. Her face was pale and her hair pulled back in a messy braid. He figured that was understandable considering she had labored for nearly a day.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't all men want sons?" There was no mockery in her voice. She said it as it were a statement of fact. Gendry supposed she was right. That was almost always the case. Men wanted sons to teach how to fight and to carry on the family name. Gendry had no family name.

"I would have been just as happy if it had been a girl," He told her honestly.

She didn't respond. Gendry moved to stand beside the cradle. He looked down at the boy. Gendry couldn't understand how the Maester thought him big. He was sure the babe would fit snugly in both of his hands. There was already a tuff of coal black hair covering his head and Gendry knew that had his eyes been open they would have been a bright blue like his own. The boy stuck two fingers in his mouth and began to suck hard. He was hungry.

"You need to feed him, love." He kept his voice as gentle as possible not wanting it to sound like a command. Arya never reacted well to orders.

She shook her head.

"What's wrong?"

Gendry knew that her being afraid was natural. It was her first child. She had worked at pushing him out for hours. She would be exhausted on top of everything else. But to not even hold her own child? He found that strange.

Arya finally looked at him. Her eyes looked like tears would start spilling out of them at any moment. Gendry sat down on the bed next to her. He took both her hands in his.

"I don't think I can be a mother," She whispered. He thought of the babe lying unattended and hungry in the cradle.

"You _are_ a mother." She said nothing. Arya looked away this time towards the door. Gendry grinded his teeth. He didn't know what to say to her denying their child or to her silence so he moved the conversation in another direction. Something he had been dying to know all day. "Why didn't you want me here? I wanted to be. I should have been."

"I didn't want you to see me like that."

"Like what?"

"Weak."

"Arya," He began tiredly. That was so like her. Keeping him away so he wouldn't see her crying in pain. It must have killed her to have anyone witness it. "What's going on? If you didn't want to be a mother, if you didn't want a child then…why didn't you get rid of it when you found out?"

He had suggested it to her when she told him. Not out of his own desire but out of concern for her. She had never expressed a longing for children like many other women. But she insisted she wanted to keep it. Gendry had suspected she planned it. Though he could not figure out her reason. He was sure it was not the accident she claimed it to be. He knew she drank moon tea daily to keep his seed from quickening, and they had been together for years, warming each other through the long winter, with no incident. Until the snow finally thawed and on one early spring day she came to him revealing she was with child.

"I thought this was what you wanted," Arya admitted.

"I…Why would you think that?"

"I've seen you around the yard playing with the children. You're good with them and you seemed happy and I thought…"

"Arya-" He started again but she talked over him.

"And I thought that if I gave you this…you wouldn't leave me ever again."

He took both her hands in his.

"I'm never going to leave you again. No matter what. You didn't need to give me a child to keep me." He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. "This isn't just about that though. I can see it. What else is wrong?"

If he kept her talking maybe they could settle this matter for good. She had been on edge for weeks. Hardly visiting him in the forge. When she used to spend nearly every night with him. He had felt ignored for quite some time.

"I told you already. I can't be a mother!" She repeated. "When I first decided to stop drinking the tea I thought it would be easy. I saw Sansa take care of two with ease. I thought maybe it could be fun too. She seemed to enjoy it. But I'm not Sansa she never -" Her voice broke. She took a long moment to compose herself. When she spoke again her voice was flat. "She never killed anyone. I have. I'm a horrible person," She said eventually with a finality that Gendry hated.

"No."

"I am," She insisted. "You know it better than anyone."

Arya had confided in him everything. She told him about her prayer and the killings from, the Tickler to Dareon, and many more. He knew the story of how she came by a very special iron coin and Faceless Men and how they taught her to perfect the art of murder. Her siblings, even her beloved Jon, did not know that much. Arya's shame kept her from revealing the whole truth to anyone. Except him.

"You're not horrible. You did some bad things; we all did. It was war Arya. And he doesn't know any of it," Gendry looked over his shoulder to the crib. And then back to Arya. "And he doesn't ever have to know if you don't want him to."

She didn't look convinced.

"You're a good person," He assured her. The tears finally began to spill out of her eyes. He put a hand on her cheek and turned her head. "You have so much love in your heart. You're the most passionate person I've ever met and you will love him and he'll love you too. Just like I do."

She was quietly sobbing now and the babe began to cry out as well.

"If you really don't want to feed him…Sansa will," Gendry sighed. She seemed as surprised by that as he had been. "But what then Arya? Are you going to pretend like he doesn't exist?"

"I don't know!"

He wailed louder. The sound seemed to be echoing throughout the room.

"He wants you. Not his aunt or some wet nurse." Gendry carefully gauged her reaction. She was biting her lip, staring at the cradle. "He's your pup, and a member of your pack just like Jon and Sansa and Rickon. You have to take care of him."

That did it.

It was like something clicked into place for her finally.

"Give him to me."

Gendry had to stop himself from sighing in relief. The words were music to his ears. He walked to the cradle and reached his hands down. The babe was wrapped tightly in gray linen, his eyes open. They were exactly the same shade blue as Gendry's like he had predicted. He was screaming loudly. Gendry hovered over him nervously.

"What's wrong?" Arya asked.

"Nothing." Gendry slipped one hand under his back.

"Mind his head."

He wanted to snap 'I know' at her. But Gendry held his tongue. He was too relived that she was showing interest in the child's well being to bicker. That could destroy all the progress they had just made.

He put both hands under the boy and lifted him out of the cradle with ease. But he didn't move his feet at all. He was scared to move so instead he stood with the boy, his boy, pressed tightly against his chest.

"He's so small."

"Didn't feel that small when I was pushing him out," Arya said. She held her hands out expectantly.

After taking several slow steps towards the bed he gently placed the boy in her arms. He instinctually turned his head towards Arya. He seemed calmer in her grasp. Gendry was about to ask if he should get the Maester or Sansa to show Arya what to do. But she was already pushing her tunic out of the way. He watched, stunned, as she exposed one breast. The babe eagerly latched on.

Gendry sat back down on the bed and watched. Arya was looking down at their son with a apprehensive curiosity. She stroked his black hair with one finger.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." She sounded confident but Gendry could tell she was still full of fear regarding her new status as a mother. He felt the same way about being a father. _She's feeding him and holding him. That's enough for now_, He thought.

"He looks just like you. I don't see any of me in him at all," She observed running her finger over the ridge of his ear and across to his nose.

"I'm sure he'll have your spirit. Once he learns to crawl we'll be chasing him all over Winterfell."

She smiled. It was the happiest Gendry had seen her look in months.

"I can teach him how to ride and to sword fight. We can take him hunting in the Wolfswood. And swimming in the hot springs," She said excitedly. Gendry laughed.

"He has to walk first. After that I'm sure the two of you will get into plenty of trouble together."

She turned her head away from the babe for the first time since Gendry placed him in her arms.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

She was frowning again. Her face looked contrite.

"I'm sorry I kept you away. I was scared."

"Its okay." He meant it to. His anger from the morning had vanished completely. Gendry couldn't hold a grudge against her for being afraid. Not after everything she had been through. "I'm here now." He rested one hand above hers and with his other Gendry reached out to carefully to stroke the little ones head.

They sat together in companionable silence for a while. Gendry felt as though he should tell her family everything was alright. For the time being at least. That he had done what they couldn't and soothed Arya's worries. But he couldn't find it in himself to move and ruin the moment.

"You know, you're a part of my pack too. You have been since Harrenhal," Arya said as she moved the boy from one breast to the other.

"I'm a bull among wolves." She smiled again.

Not long after that her family crept into the room. The relief was visible on their faces. They crowded around the bed and cooed at his son. Sansa kissed Arya on the brow smiling down at her sister. Her daughter jumped on the bed and stared at the baby with wonder.

"This is your cousin my dear," Sansa told the girl. She giggled happily and put her finger in the babies small hand. He reflexively grasped it. Jon and Rickon both clamped Gendry on the shoulder and congratulated him. Jon even leaned down and thank him quietly so Arya would not hear.

She was too distracted to notice though. Sansa was prodding her about a name. Arya was joking about how she liked Ned but wasn't sure their father would have approved. Gendry was glad to see she could joke about it. It seemed she was nearly back to her old self. But filled with a new excitement and nervousness all at once. When she looked over at him he knew everything would be fine. They were a family now.

And for the first time Gendry truly felt like a member of her pack.


End file.
